Ageless Wondering
by Engrish Spy
Summary: A prophesy brought them together but as they age, evil and fate have a way of working against them. It is now up to them to try and right their wrongs. A story that spans more then four decades and many children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.


Ageless Wonderings

Rating: M

Engrish Spy

A/N Here it is my first all out foray into the Magical World of Ginny and Draco. It's long and complicated but you will enjoy or I hope so.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter. JKR, Warner Bro., Scolastica/Bloomsburry do. I just wanted to borrow them.

August, 2046:

The table lay littered with the remnants of food, opened presents and huge amounts of confetti. Yet an old woman sat at the head of the table not surveying the mess that lay ahead of her to clean up but a crisp taupe and gold envelope that sat unopened on the table amid the gifts and mess.

It was not that she did not mind getting gifts. It was just that this was a special gift. A gift that should have been only one of its kind to open but after so many years of waiting for this gift, the old woman did not know what to do. The only thing she could do was to stare at the gift with her elderly brown eyes and hold it with her work roughened hands.

"A gift forgotten in eternity," she said with a sigh and then set the letter down carefully, placing it just so. She then pushed back from the table and slowly stood up.

She smoothed the wrinkles out of her blue-green velvet robes as she fully extended her small frame. She pulled her greying red hair back in frustration as if she had fully realized the contents of the letter she had just set in front of her. She was never expecting that after so long that a small little card could tear her apart with little to no hassle. Just it laying on the table caused feelings of regret and lost pain to conjure new wounds that she had long thought healed or forgotten.

She turned to the fireplace and noted that it was also littered with party favours across its hearth but it was the mantel that drew her gaze. Pictures, both moving and still cluttered the massive piece of oak that served as the mantel. Pictures of her, younger and vibrant. Pictures of friends and children, and the newest addition a Polaroid of a small girl smiling with big brown eyes and pigtails. She traced her hand down the photo and let the pain ebb somewhat.

"Mum," the raspy voice of a newcomer floated around the kitchen.

Dragging her eyes away from the picture, she turned towards the voice. Letting a little smile cross her lips she was greeted to the sight of a man who was lean and tall yet bore striking features like those of the roman emperors. He looked worn and just as frustrated as she felt. Though his blue-grey eyes shone through his weariness.

"Hullo," she spoke softly, a small smile replacing the look of sadness in her eyes.

"Hi," he said with a quick raise of his hand in a shy greeting.

She turned back to the pictures and waited for the news.

"He's not coming," was all that was spoken.

There was a long silence that seemed to fill the air with a thick depression that touched even the people in the moving pictures.

"I know," she said after a long period and moved her eyes towards the table with the envelope laying face up, mocking her from its place.

"I tried to ask him but…" he trailed off

"He was busy with you mother," the woman picked up.

"She's not my mother," he snapped and moved further into the room.

"I stopped being your mother the day you were born," she said with regret.

"You may not know it but you are more of a mother to me then she is," he said softly and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"How are your children?" she asked shrugging off his hand.

Sighing the man turned to look at the pictures on the mantel, "Gin is getting to be a big girl. She can't wait to get her Hogwarts letter. She is really jealous of James getting to go this year. Da spoils her and Killian too much though. Ron is also getting big too."

"How bout James?" she said with a smile, trying to ignore that fact that there was mention of her ex-husband, "How's my youngest oldest?"

"Excited beyond all measures," the man said with a smile.

"How is Anna taking the departure of her oldest?" she continued her line of questioning.

"Anna is hysterical," he said with a laugh, "but enough of me how about you mum? How are you?"

The woman gave a sigh and then looked at the man with a sad look, "Nothing new since you owled me a week ago. Today was a great party; I'm just sorry you missed it. Grima was so upset that you weren't here to give the family present, though I do think the huge 'fridgrator is a beautiful addition to the kitchen."

The man looked over to the corner of the kitchen that the present that the woman's grown children gave her for her sixty-fifth birthday. It was a new silver bullet magical 'fridgrator. 'A must have for the magical woman of the 21st century' the salesman had said when they went to purchase it. They had bought it to replace the aging magical frozen cupboard that had been in the house since there grandfather built the house. It was charmed to never let food rot and kept it fresh since the day you bought it. Ah the wonders of new magical technology.

"And Molly brought me this lovely dress robe all the way from Australia. She said that Mick's mom hand dyed the fabric. It's lovely. I thought," she continued to babble.

"Iona, Jade and Scarlet were really nice and chipped in their money and got me a book on makeup spells for older women," She said touching her face at the same time as she mentioned the gift her eleven year old triplet granddaughters gave her.

"What did Da give you?" the man asked in a horse voice stopping his mother mid sentence.

"Just that envelope on the table," she said quietly as if she knew what was in it.

"Have you opened it yet?" the man asked.

The elderly woman shook her head and then sat down. There was no expression on her face and the small smile that had been there only minutes before was now gone.

The man kneeled down in front of her and looked at her with a look of concern. She looked back at him and cradled his face with both her aging hands.

"You look so much like him, yet you don't," she said softly.

"Grandma Weasley said I look like you," he said with a horse laugh.

The older woman held back the soft chuckles that threatened to spill.

"Da says Ginny looks like you in every way except for the Potter green eyes," he continued.

"Magic can do some funny things to the way a line progresses," the matured woman said with a sigh.

"Like split you and Da?" he questioned.

There was silence in the room and the elderly woman just continued to stare at the man in front of her. After a long impenetrable silence the elderly woman spoke, "No it was fate that tore us apart."

November, 1999:

War was no time for happy things. It was all about death. There should be no births, marriages and above all love happening in the time of war. These are things reserved for times of peace, times of relaxation or the hopes people used to remember what was on the other side of war. A way of getting through each day and trying to forget the pain that war did cause. However, it was only a painful reminder to one Ginny Weasley.

Ginny was standing near the large windows that over looked the encampment on the grounds of Hogwarts. Her attentions were diverted else where and brown eyes were focused on the black murky waters of the lake. Her brown eyes never leaving the lake. Not even the falling of the orange and yellow leaves of fall or the fresh new snow that was falling could divert her gaze.

"What are you looking at Gin-bug?" came the raspy voice from the back of the room.

Sighing Ginny pulled her eyes from the water to glance behind her shoulder. She could see her father dressed in his usually dress shirt with the bow tie and tweed jacket and the ridiculous brown pants with his brown tweed robes laid over both his shoulders, as if he had just put it on after sleeping in his clothing. Ginny slowly brought her eyes back to the lake.

"Nothing," she said in a mono tone voice.

Arthur Weasley shuffled further into the room. His blue eyes began taking in the sight of his very pregnant daughter who had only tuned nineteen in August. She looked so different from the daughter he left on the platform three months ago.

"You're staring at the lake again, there has to be something bothering you?" he said with a sigh.

She never let her eyes leave the lake as she let out a frustrated moan.

"I'm tired. I'm tired of it all," she finally replied as silence once again filled the room.

August, 2055:

"The Basilisk was the mythical king of the serpents. He was born from a perfectly round, yolkless egg that was laid during the days of Sirius the dog. It had been laid by the most beautiful of roosters but hatched by the most ugliest of toads,"

Giggles erupted from the little group of red, brown and blonde heads gathered at the feet of the old woman. She quickly quieted them down and continued her tale.

"The Basilisk could petrify a person with his mere reflection; however it could kill with a glance every living thing it came upon,"

There were now gasps of horror from among the younger children's and stories that started to appear on the tips of the older children lips, but a knowing glance from the grandmother stopped any and all attempts of the older children.

"The weasel however was immune to the Basilisk's glance of death. It was not afraid of the Basilisk either. If a weasel ever crossed the Basilisk's path and was bitten, the weasel would withdraw and find a plant called rue, which was also immune to the Basilisk's nasty breath. After eating such an herb, the weasel would return with renewed strength and defend its territory," she finished her tale proudly.

There were chirps and cheers from the children for the proud and fearless weasel.

"Time to go," came the call of a woman with bushy hair and brown eyes from the entrance to the parlour. There were moans and protest from the children around their feet wishing for more stories from their beloved matriarch.

More red and blonde head mixed with brown and greying heads entered the parlour and shooed away the children from the grandmother. The others collected children and grandchildren and even a great-grand child away. The only person left in the room was a girl who looked exactly like the grandmother at a younger age.

"Gin you look more and more like I did at your age," the grandmother in the chair rasped.

"You said it yourself that magic does weird things to a line," the girl said with a laugh and moved herself from her spot on the sofa to sit cross-legged in front of the older woman.

"I remember your other grandmother said that it had something to do with what muggles like to call 'genetics'," the elder woman said with a laugh.

"Grandmother Potter was a wise woman, still the greatest witch of her age," Gin quoted with great authority.

"But now you are, a destined girl who was born to obscurity in my dreams," the elderly woman said with a soft voice.

"Why is my life in peril?" the younger woman asked.

The elder woman leaned forward and looked into the green eyes of the woman in front of her, "You are a conglomeration of three of the most powerful wizarding families at the turn of the century. You were born to the seventh of a seventh and are the only girl. You may be the middle child but you are special. More special then your brothers even more special then I thought your father would be."

The girl just nodded her head, "I know they are coming for me. I can feel them. They are not present to us now but they are there."

"I can feel them in these old bones of mine too, but I still have life in me yet," the older woman said and shooed the girl to back away from where she was and stood up.

"When do you suspect it will happen?" Gin asked.

"Soon, soon. Are you parents waiting for you?" the older woman asked.

Gin shook her head.

"Good come with me," the old woman replied and led her up the stairs to the landing on which her bedroom door was located.

Once inside and the door locked, the older woman shuffled over to the bed and pulled out her wand. Waving it, a soft clunk was heard and an old battered trunk flew into the room and set itself down with a loud clank, sending the thick layer of dust into the room and causing the women to cough in the settling cloud.

Finally after the dust had cleared the older woman unlocked the trunk and slowly lowered herself to the ground and began to pull things out. First came the large leather bound album full of pictures, then the moth eaten robe that had once been her grandmothers wedding dress. 'Silly thing' Gin heard her grandmother mutter under her breath.

The last thing to be brought out was a simple white shoe box that was tied with a white ribbon. The old woman pulled it out and looked at it with a heavy look. She did not know if she should open it and explain her plan or show Gin what the content of the box should be.

After a long silence, the old woman spoke, "It was at the time of war that two enemies would marry. One a girl of crimson hair who would see the fates of many and be a threat to herself. The other was one of fair skin with a heart of ice so thick not even the fires of love could penetrate his heart. I remember reading that prophesy like it was yesterday

"_Soon from her arms was the son was ripped _

_And replaces as heir of fortunes gate_

_Though heir was not his fate._

_For his girl child like her grandmother before_

_Will inherited this talent and along with innate evil_

_She will set right the long lost love _

_And stop all evil from setting lose on the world."_

Gin looked at her grandmother with sad expression, for she had the haunting dreams that this grandmother had for told, and knew the precise date that their world would come to an end. For there was no true good without true evil and without the balance the world would fall again.

"Do you think Grandfather will be the one to bring about my end?" Gin found herself questioning the elderly woman.

The woman closed her eyes and let go of the breath she was holding at the mention of the woman's husband from long ago. An impenetrable stillness fell on the two women gather around the wooden box.

"I don't know Gin?" she said with a soft voice.

The girl just nodded at the grandmother's response and then looked to the white box in the woman's hands.

"This is what I have wanted to give you for ages," the grandmother said changing the subject.

The girl turned green eyes towards the box and gazed as calloused and wizened hands pulled out a gold object and watched as the woman delicately placed it in to her own hands.

"What is it," Gin found herself whispering.

"This dear is the fate of all of us," she replied and then smiled at the girl.

January 2000:

"Breath Gin, that's all you have to do right now," Hermione said as she helped to deliver the baby into the world.

"Why does it take so long?" Ginny whined as she lolled her head back on the mass of pillows that were propping her up.

"Babies just do," Ron quipped from his position on Ginny's right holding her hand.

"I hate Malfoy," Ginny gritted as a contraction came on hard.

"Ouch, Ginny that was my hand," Ron screamed at the force of which Ginny held his hand.

"What do you need it for, to jerk off?" she gnashed at her older brother.

Hermione laughed and then began to massage Ginny's belly.

"He's not going to come," Ginny then whined.

"Oh he better be here, I didn't send out my best friend in a time like this to get a stupid git like Malfoy for nothing," Ron said from Ginny's side.

"Just hurry up little one," Ginny moaned and then cried out as a contraction hit her again.

"That's good Ginny, just breath I tell you when it's time to push," Hermione said with soft words.

"Well that's all she ever does is breath," Ron sighed exasperated.

"I'm going to kill Malfoy or seriously wound him when he gets here," Ginny grimaced as another contraction hit.

It was like that for two more hours. There were calming words from Hermione as she continued to monitor the birth, silly, stupid and snide remarks from Ron as he continued to hold her hand and take the brunt of Ginny's threats and whines.

The doors at the end of the infirmary were flung open and in ran a much dishevelled Harry followed by a very bloody and very angry Draco. Ginny did not give him too much glance for another strong contraction hit her just only 30 seconds after she had experienced a strong one.

"I need to push," she moaned and then grit her teeth.

Hermione's face contorted into a look of anxiety as she reminded Ginny not to push until she was fully dilated. Harry took a position on Ginny's left and joined in the banter and soothing of Ginny as she came to the transition period in her labour. Draco however stood back from the bed watching as Ginny contorted in pain of childbirth.

It amazed him that she had held out this long. From what Potter had told him, she had gone into labour at eleven am yesterday and was going into her twenty fourth hour now. She looked tired and ragged. He only wondered if she had been given charms for the pain. He knew many women did take them, his mother had even though his father had disagreed, so he had been told.

"Has she taken any charms for the pain?" Draco found himself asking out loud.

Four faces turned to look at the blonde, one of which was evil and three that looked worried beyond compare. It was like that they wished the one with the evil look had, for it might have made the birth much easier.

Sniffing and then looking away, Draco deduced it was better that he not get involved in this matter right now. He tried looking everywhere in the infernal infirmary for something that might pique his attention but the screams of one red head brought his attention back.

"I want my mother," she whimpered and sank her tired body back to the bed.

"Shh," Draco noticed that Ginny's lug headed brother was trying to comfort Ginny, "she's coming. She's just got to finish up some work at home then she was coming by the express as soon as she could.

Ginny had shot up out of the bed by then and was hold on to Ron's hand to the point of blood loss.

"But if she takes the express, there might be a chance that the deatheaters will attack," she moaned and then collapsed on the bed.

"Ron," Hermione hissed.

"I have to help her some how," he snapped back

"I want my mum," Ginny somehow found some energy to moan and sob.

"She's not coming," Draco found himself snap from his corner.

He found all eyes once again trained on him as if he had spoken ill of a bird. The worst was seeing her eyes, gleaming yet not. As if all hope had been lost in that moment. He felt as if something was about to shatter. It never happened before.

"I want him out," was all he heard before he found himself flat on his arse outside the infirmary, and the giant doors slammed shut.

August, 2055:

"A time tuner?" the worried expression crossed Gin's face as she gaped at her grandmother.

The gold ball looked nothing like the device that her Grandmother and Grandfather Potter had used in their third year to set about changes. It was more smooth and heavier.

"It was created specifically for this moment. A moment that has many paradoxel values if you look at it," the old woman said with a laugh.

"What is a pa-r-adox?" Gin said stressing the word out slowly as if it were foreign.

"It's like a rule that is not supposed to occur. Currently we are in one right now," the older lady said with a smile.

"But how are we a rule that's not supposed to occur?" Gin said as if it were literal.

The grandmother did not care; she was lost in her own little world. Gin began to wonder if her grandmother was senile as she watched the wizened lady talk to herself.

"Things must go according to plan this time. Many glamour charms will be needed. She is not totally like me. She must prepare my younger self for what is about to come. She might reject again…"

"Reject what?" Gin found herself asking.

"Reject what I am about to ask you," the grandmother replied as if she had already snapped out of her trance.

"What do I reject?" Gin poked at her grandmother's side.

The woman gave the girl a harsh look as if to back off but it did not stop Gin from bugging her grandmother into relenting her information.

"Why are you so afraid?" she asked.

"Because of the paradox that was created," the grandmother replied.

"But why such a paradox?" she continued.

"Your other grandmother once told me that the mathematical probability and possible futures are too many to count yet somehow the outcome ends with this loop in the magic time stream. It seems that magic is a great detector of emotions."

"What do you mean?" Gin found her heart speed up at the thought.

"You young ones and your silly ways of questioning your elders. What does your heart tell you?" The grandmother finally asked a question back.

"What it always tells me. To do right by my family," Gin said with determination.

The grandmother smirked at Gin and she looked down at her knees.

"I asked not what your heart is telling you to do, but what does your heart feel?"

Gin sat on her knees a little longer and then realized she still held the time tuner in her hands. She examined it more closely as she thought what was in her heart. Only then did it begin to glow and shimmer, the skin beginning to turn from its gleaming gold to a lustrous pearlescent white and faint sepia coloured images began to fad in and out on the skin.

Still faint, Gin began to make out the images that appeared. Her grandmothers and grandfathers faded in and out. Traces of her aunts and her many cousins appeared as well. Her father and mother and her brothers all faded into view if only to stop and disappear as if nothing had happened. The images became stronger but showed her past vision of her grandparents. Her grandmother Weasley was young, she could tell just by the way her grandmothers hair was long and constantly in her eyes. It surprised her even more was the way her grandfather looked. His hair was slicked back yet short. She did not even remember a time when his hair was not long and tied back with the tan leather thong in his hair. In fact he never let his hair go not even when he went to bed at night. There must have been something special about the hair clip yet Gin never thought to question her grandfather at all.

"We were young," the grandmother found herself saying with a fatigued sigh.

"The war…"

"Was only into its fifth year when I gave birth to your aunt Grimauldal," the grandmother said interrupting Gin.

"But don't you always say that war is never a time to give birth to hopes and dreams?" Gin found herself turning away from the now illuminated ball.

"I did and still to this day believe what I said. I never wanted to bring you aunts and father into the world that seemed to be created by war. But fate endeared it to be that way. However there were key factors missing from the equation," the grandmother swallowed the tears that threatened to spring from her eyes.

"What was that key factor?" Gin found herself whispering.

"I…It…It was… Love."

TBC…


End file.
